Underneath
by Agent Author
Summary: Dumb and fuzzy. Luke wants a present for Flora and a spot under the mistletoe with her. LukexFlora R&R


It was Christmastime in London. The snow had seriously piled and Luke watched from the window as flakes of white drifted and swirled from the heavens down onto the Laytonmobile. He sighed, and his breath left a translucent fog on the window, so he rubbed it to see the outdoors clearly again.

He was supposed to be happy. He was with Layton and Flora, and Christmas was his favorite time of year. Sure, he hadn't seen his mother in a long time, but they wrote to each other every day, with photographs of various activities. It still wasn't quite the same. Three Christmases. Three Christmases without is parents. Three Christmases without Misthallery.

Three Christmases with Flora.

Her name made the apprentice smile. Everything about her made him smile; her clothes, her hair, her face. The only thing that he didn't like about her was… her cooking.

Oh, no. That reminded him: Flora was going to make something for Christmas dinner. _Oh, please don't let it be the ham, _Luke prayed to himself, _Or the quiche. Or the eggnog. Or the potatoes. You know what? Just don't let her cook! I don't want to eat at a diner like an American! _He knew his wish would not come true, for Flora loved to cook but always refused to taste her own cooking.

He still wanted to stand next to her with a mistletoe dangling above their heads. It was his fantasy that would never come true, it seemed. The two of them gazing past each other's eyes of black, holding her blemish-free cheek in his hand, and the slow inching in, without hesitation, just a made-up mind.

Luke sighed again in shattered hope. She was older. She was nineteen. He was sixteen. Professor Layton had always been one for love, but he told his apprentice to try and aim at a young lady his own age. As you can see, that didn't work out quite well. He thought about her all the time, tore up lists and lists of dumb presents to give to her, bought perfect flowers but ended up stomping on them because they'd either wilted by the time he'd plucked up the courage to give them to her, or she was off with someone else.

But, now she was home with Layton- with him. Now he had all of Winter break to spend time with her. Better yet, there was a huge snowstorm and everybody had to stay indoors for that amount of time. Maybe the electricity would go out and they would have to use candles. You never know.

Now the young gentleman was perfecting an idea for what to get his love interest for Christmas. He'd already gotten a collection of volumes of the hardest puzzles ever for the professor, along with a whole case of hundreds of assorted tea leaves, but couldn't find what he needed for Flora. Does she want a dress? No, why would she want a dress? She has dozens, and more than enough money to buy herself a new life, let alone a new dress, if she wanted one.

No, he'd think of a present tomorrow. Tomorrow! Luke face-palmed himself like he always did when he answered a puzzle wrong. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve! How could he possibly get a present for Flora on Christmas Eve? The answer is he wouldn't. It was impossible. He hoped God would grant him a dream when he slept or an epiphany of some sort and walked upstairs to bed.

He tossed and turned that night, thinking of Flora's brown waves, her black-diamond-like eyes, and the tiny golden apple that appeared on her chest when she smiled. Oh, how he wished he could make that golden apple appear. He'd give up anything to be caught under a mistletoe with Flora, kiss her, and pull back to see a pure white smile and that golden apple under her chin. He slept a restless sleep that night.

Luke awoke to Rosa with a tray of chocolate-chip hotcakes with extra powdered sugar and syrup, chewy bacon, and cold Belle Classic tea. He smiled, remembering his once larger appetite when he was younger. "Happy Christmas Eve, Rosa," he said tiredly, rubbing his eye, "Who made breakfast?"

"Flora," Rosa replied briskly and brightly. Luke's eyes widened and his mouth dropped a little. "Oh, I'm only joking, Luke. Just one before I visit my family for the holiday." She kissed him on the top of his head, right on his dirty blond hair. "Merry Christmas, Luke!"

"Merry Christmas, Rosa," Luke chuckled quietly. As he cut into the hotcake, which was practically drowned in syrup, he thought of a present for Flora. He couldn't go anywhere to get one, and he didn't quite have the creativity to make one, so he was stumped. What could she possibly want? All Luke wanted was a spot under the mistletoe. Maybe she wanted the same thing…?

Christmas Eve passed with Flora trying very hard to perfect her hot chocolate. She'd failed so many times that Professor Layton had to hide the chocolate so she couldn't make any more. Luke nearly spit out his cup of Cayenne Twilight at the table when Flora asked where the chocolate was and Professor Layton said they must've run out, and then lifted the brim of his hat to reveal the needed chocolate nesting right on top of his brown hair.

"I guess I'll just make some eggnog for the professor," Flora decided.

Professor Layton had too quick a wit to go down without a gentlemanly fight. "That's very thoughtful of you, Flora," he lied smoothly, "But I'm afraid a gentleman takes care not to drink alcohol except at certain celebrations with others who are also of age. It is only polite."

Flora looked a little sad, so Luke saw a small chance. "Oh, Flora, you're turning into the professor, working so hard!" he said, "Just relax and-" All the lights went out. If it weren't for the moonlight, the house would be completely pitch-black. Luke could barely make out Flora's outline next to him, and smiled brilliantly. This was just as he had hoped for!

"Oh, dear," Layton breathed, "Don't move, you two. I'll go get some candles." He got up and carefully walked to the kitchen.

Flora grabbed Luke's entire arm and pulled him close. "I'm afraid of the dark, Luke," she trembled. If he didn't have feelings for her, he would've rolled his eyes. The girl was afraid of everything: the dark, spiders, heights, being alone… The list went on.

But Luke did have feelings for her, so he pulled her to his chest with the arm she wasn't grasping. "It's fine, Flora," he hushed, "It's only the dark."

"I found some candles!" Layton called. The sound of a match striking the counter and lighting a wick sounded, and Layton came out the kitchen door with more. "Here, careful when you light them." He held the candles and matches to the teenagers.

The candles were lit in a matter of minutes, and were put out after a few hours, since everybody had to retire. As Luke began to drift off to dreamland, he thought of the warmer years of Christmas when he believed in Saint Nick. That was when he was younger. Now he was sixteen, not six, and the stockings on the mantle were only for decoration.

Blue darkness crowded Luke's eyes when he opened them, and he pondered the situation for a few moments, then it dawned on him that it was Christmas, and he still didn't have a present for Flora, let alone a perfect one. Then a little image popped up in the back of his mind. The set of art tools in his closet! How could he have forgotten? He'd bought that for Flora back in October before the store had run out! But had he wrapped it? Luke checked the closet and there it was- a red rose- wrapped art set. _To Flora, From Luke, with love, _the card read.

Luke breathed a long sigh of relief and lifted the box in his arms. He gingerly carried it down the stairs and deposited it under the pine needles of the Christmas tree. The needles shadowed over the rose wrapping and the teenager believed this would be a good Christmas. He went upstairs back to bed.

A few hours of snoring passed and light flooded Luke's eyes when he opened them. He was relaxed, and Flora was next to him and had been shaking him awake.

"Luke!" she whispered, "It's Christmas! The professor told me to wait until you woke up, but I couldn't help it any longer!"

"When was that?" Luke questioned, confused. His clock said seven o'clock.

"At about six-fifty," Flora replied. Luke laughed and shook his head. The professor must've been up all night, studying as always. He knew it was unladylike for Flora to wake him up, but he also knew it was ungentlemanly to keep a lady waiting. Of course, how was he supposed to know she was waiting?

They scurried downstairs and Layton was sitting on the sofa, sipping his Layton Elixir and flipping through a book of Ambrosia, which he'd assisted in writing. He chuckled when he looked up and saw Flora dragging Luke behind her. Luke realized Flora had been holding his blue hat and put it on.

"Merry Christmas, you two," Layton tipped his hat to them, and returned his attention to his book. The teenagers sat on either sides of him and waited. Layton looked up at them and frowned. "What are you waiting for? Go on, open your presents!"

Luke and Flora shared a glance for a few seconds. In those few seconds, Luke gazed past her beautiful black eyes, which were twinkling. Then they broke off and dove for their presents. They were still quite childish for their ages, and Luke nearly let out a Flora-like giggle at this thought.

Everybody opened their presents, and Flora was simply delighted when she unwrapped he present from Luke. "Oh, Luke, it's perfect!" she cried.

Luke received a book on reptiles from Layton, a box of fudge from his mum, a professional notepad and pen from his dad, and very well-painted picture of Misthallery and all his friends from Flora. He smiled a little sadly at the picture, and thanked her for it.

….

"Dinner!" Flora sang, dressing the entire table with food, "I made the cake!"

Luke's stomach shifted. The ham, potatoes, the quiche, and the (non-alcoholic) eggnog were all delectable, but the cake- not only was it cake, but _cheesecake, _Luke's favorite cake- was absolutely… delicious! Cheesecake was hard to make, and Luke was astounded that Flora had successfully made it, and he said so, himself.

Professor Layton had gone to bed by 9:00, and at 10:00, Luke was watching Christmas specials on the television and curling up with Flora by the fire.

Flora looked up at Luke. "Luke?" she said, bringing the boy's attention to her.

"Yes?" Luke replied.

"There was a present I wanted to give you," Flora said, making Luke excited at every word, "But I didn't want the professor to see." She reached under the blanket covering them and pulled out a flat box- one that would most likely hold a non-precious necklace- wrapped in light blue paper with silver snowflakes.

Luke smiled and carefully unwrapped the present. When he opened the box, bright green mistletoe was lying there. It was still fresh, tied with a cherry-red ribbon. His eyes widened in surprise and pleasure. Without quite knowing what he was doing, he raised it above their two heads and stared at Flora.

The girl smiled and the pair leaned in, staring past each other's eyes of black. Luke held Flora's blemish-free cheek in his free hand and slowly inched in closer, without hesitation, just a made-up mind.

As their lips met each other, Luke felt warmth spreading all around him, all throughout his body, to the tips of his fingers and toes. He didn't pull back for a while, and neither did she. When they did, the apprentice saw a smile of pure white and a golden apple under her chin.


End file.
